


Soft Solidarity

by Lady_Astro_Ovess



Series: Tales from the Atrium [1]
Category: Star Wars, The Mandalorian
Genre: Drabble, F/F, F/M, Ficlets, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Skinship, Some angst, buir being buir, dads being dads, literally idk how to format anything, moms being moms, more to be added with each part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:40:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Astro_Ovess/pseuds/Lady_Astro_Ovess
Summary: A brief conversation between Cassius Ovess and Din Djarin
Series: Tales from the Atrium [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660984
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Soft Solidarity

**Author's Note:**

> Translation:  
> Nau'ur: my word for Armorer/ lit. forge  
> Ni ceta: I'm sorry  
> Udessi: relax, be calm

> “How old were you, when you lost them?”

The question hung in the air as Cassius continued to make adjustments to Din Djarin’s cuirass. The smaller man had come to check his armors integrity, and had intentions to get to know the Na’ur Alor in order to exercise trust. Cassius was accommodating as ever and answered Din with ease–but this is the first time the man fell silent.

Din wanted to bite his tongue.

For a long while, Cassius didn’t say anything, and which each pull of a leather strap from Din’s cuirass, Din became more anxious. He shouldn’t have asked Cassius such an intrusive question. Din is a guest with the Ovess, and shouldn’t have assumed he could ask their Nau’r Alor something so personal.  
  
Kriff… Din raised his head to apologize just as Cassius clears his throat.  
  


“I was twelve years old. Nika was two.” 

Cassius’ voice comes out in a low whisper. If Din weren’t sat at the end of the armorer’s workbench, he might not have heard him. But he did. And Din is quick to apologize.

“Ni ceta, Cassius. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Udessi.” Cassius sighs, telling Din he should relax. He produced a polishing cloth from his belt and held it out to Din to hold. “It is alright for you to ask. You were a Foundling, and so young… were you as young as me, ad’ika?”

Din takes the cloth and nods. “Somewhat… I was eight.” 

Cassius pauses from picking up the beskar polish.   
Slowly he puts his massive, gloved hand down to rest on Din’s shoulder. He gives a reassuring squeeze. Din looks up and sees that Cassius is looking at him through his visor, silently offering comfort and solidarity. Their helmets press together just slightly in a Keldabe Kiss, and the two take a deep breath. And this time the silence is comforting. The past hurts. Far more than it should. But Mandalorians are made to endure such pains and come to terms with them in time.

Cassius takes back the polishing cloth and begins cleaning Din’s armor. Din sits quietly in appreciation, once again glad he had taken to coming to the Ovess. Down the hall, Din can hear his foundling giggling with joy, followed by an exasperated sigh.

“Chew your food, ad’ika! Gosh, I don’t know how he can eat these thing.”  
That soft voice was Nika. “Okay, just–” 

There’s a loud clatter before Izay bursts out in laughter.

“He swallowed the whole thing!”

“That was brutal…”

“Wait, Vers, don’t give him the frog, we aren’t supposed–VERS!” 

There are more cries of disgust, but now there are scattered bouts of laughter. Din feels himself smile behind his helmet. This is what a home feels like.


End file.
